


Orcs and Elves

by Mawgy



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-11
Updated: 2010-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 01:12:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mawgy/pseuds/Mawgy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Legolas is on his way to Rivendell when he is waylaid by a band of Orcs. The consequences of which leaves him in need of some comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Orcs and Elves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sivan Shemesh](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Sivan+Shemesh).



> **Request from Sivan:**
> 
> **Rating up to =** NC-17
> 
> **Requested pairing =** Twins (Elladan or Elrohir )/Legolas or Erestor/Legolas/Elrond.
> 
> **Story elements =** battle scene, violence, h/c, angst, bit of fluff, m/m explicit scenes. Third age only.
> 
> **Do NOT include =** humor

**Title:** Orcs and Elves  
 **Author:** Mawgy  
 **Beta:** my mum  
 **Rated:** NC-17  
 **Genre:** Angst  
 **Warnings:** ORCS! Not for the faint-hearted. BDSM, Torture, Hurt/Comfort  
 **Pairing:** Legolas/Orcs, Legolas/Elladan, Elrohir  
 **Summary:** Legolas is on his way to Rivendell when he is waylaid by a band of Orcs. The consequences of which leaves him in need of some comfort.  
 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing and am making no money from this story… I just like to play with other people’s toys. :D

 

 

“Pretty little elf- time to wake UP!” a voice growled in the delicate ear, followed by a painful slap to the face. Legolas’ head bounced from one shoulder to the other as he regained consciousness. He tried to open his eyes, but his right eye was sealed shut from dried blood that had run down his face from a previous blow to the head. His left eye opened a sliver yet the movement became too painful as it had puffed up from a well-placed hit. His head was too groggy to fully take in what was occurring, but he tried to move, only to discover his hands were tied above his head. His wrists and shoulders hurt the most as they had been bearing the brunt of his weight for the last hour or two. “Hehe, is the pretty hurt?”

“Not so pretty now, is he?” another voice grunted in the background.

“Prettier, I think, but not pretty enough. Not yet,” another gruff voice declared.

“Yes, not twisted enough!” the first voice agreed. A large hand grabbed the blood soaked blonde hair and pulled Legolas’ head upright. “But the night is still young,” the Orc smiled, his sharp, blackened teeth mere inches from Legolas’ face. The prince thought he would vomit from the vile stench being omitted from the creature’s rotting mouth. However Legolas was a prince of Mirkwood and would be damned if he allowed any sign of fear show. With all the strength he could muster, Legolas gingerly regained his balance and stood up straight. He was a head taller than the Orc who still had a tight grip on the blonde hair. Legolas looked down into the cold yellow eyes and spat in the foul creature’s face in defiance.

“If I die tonight, let it be known that your time on Middle Earth draws to a close,” Legolas claimed, his eyes boring coldly into the Orcs’.

“Die? Hahaha! We have no plans of killing you!” the Orc responded, wiping his face clean from Legolas’ saliva. He looked at the clear liquid, then, watching Legolas closely, brought his wet fingers to his face, where he proceeded to suck on the digits, swallowing the prince’s fluid. “We plan to keep you for our own. Twist and mutilate you until your own kind no longer recognises you, then *you* will be hunted like the rest of us, by your very own relatives,” the Orc smiled maliciously.

“Good! I would rather die by their hands than live like *YOU*!” Legolas contended.

The Orcs all laughed at Legolas’ retort.

“This one has spirit! I shall enjoy breaking him!” a voice in the background called out.

“Indeed he does,” the main Orc agreed. He leaned in closer to Legolas, straightening his arched back for the first time in many years, till he stood as tall as the prince. His nose twitched as he sniffed Legolas’ face, neck, ear and hair. Whatever he smelt, the Orc seemed to enjoy it, because he smiled once more, the horrid stench again infiltrating the prince’s nostrils. With his head pounding and groggy, and little food or water in recent hours, this time, Legolas could not hold back his compulsion, and vomited. Unfortunately, the Orc had released the blonde hair in time, and none of the regurgitation fell upon his person.

“Awww, the poor little elf is not well,” a voice in the background teased. “Let’s make him worse!”

“Rip off his clothes! Make him BLLEEEEED!”

“With pleasure,” the closest Orc said with an evil grin. Standing straight again, Legolas’ gaze bore into the amber eyes, not betraying any of his true emotions, as a gnarled, clawed hand grasped the neck of his clothes and pulled as hard as possible. Despite being of Elven design and make, the clothes tore easily with such brute strength being applied. Legolas remained as still as possible, his jaw clenching when the sharp nails grazed his skin. “Pretty,” the Orc smiled again, seeing his handiwork. Lowering himself to his usual height, the Orc bent further and leaned in close to a scratch near the prince’s navel. The Orc flicked out his tongue, tasting the copper flavoured red liquid, and savoured the elf’s life essence on his tongue.

“How does he taste?” a voice, much closer than before called out.

“Delicious,” the original Orc replied, licking his lips lavisciously.

“Let me taste,” the new Orc tried to push in.

“Wait your turn!”

“If I wait ‘till you are done, WE will never have a turn!”

“Before this night is done, we will all be sated.”

“But why do you go first?”

“Because I am now in charge!”

“No you are not!”

“I AM! Since this one killed our 3 leaders. I AM the one who caught him, so he is MY prisoner and I can do with him what I want! You should be grateful I will allow you the courtesy of extracting revenge against him for killing our friends.” The Orc again smiled maliciously, his lips curling from his mouth to show his blackened gums and full jagged teeth.

“I say we all share alike and be done with this quickly!”

“Quickly? You do not wish to savour his defiance and his soul breaking ever so slowly?”

“We should not stay here long- others will come for him.”

The self-proclaimed leader of the band threw back his head and laughed. “Others? What others? He has been travelling alone ever since we picked up his scent!” Legolas cringed upon hearing this. As an elf, especially one of stealth, trained specially as per his father’s request, one of the first skills Legolas had learned was to hide his scent and trail. Even without water or hygiene tools, items were always available to aid his anonymity. But it was mid-winter; he had been on the road for two months already, slowly making his way to Rivendell. His horse had been spooked by the sound of thunder the third week into his journey and he ran off; unable to see in the dark and fell off the pass down into the gully between two mountains. Tempted to turn back though Legolas was, the very same thunder caused an avalanche so thick only the coming of spring would melt the snow. The only option was to continue. In his haste to stay warm and travel as quickly as possible, Legolas discounted the likelihood of Orcs being nearby, and thus did not cover his tracks as he usually would. A mistake he will not make again, should he survive this ordeal. “We have time enough.”

While the Orcs had been debating Legolas’ immediate future, the prince had been ever so subtly testing his restraints. The rope was thick, hard and well-knotted. The materials scratched Legolas’ wrists as he tried to free himself. He also attempted to move his legs, possibly to kick out at his captor’s if needed, but his legs had been secured to the ground; presumably from some kind of spike buried deep in the earth.

“The pretty should not fidget so much,” a raspy voice said from behind, a knife pressed to Legolas’ neck.

“Perhaps he is eager to receive what is coming to him,” the leader teased. “In this, I will be very happy to oblige. Unless there are any further complaints?” This was as much a challenge to his leadership as he would call. He stared at each Orc left in their group individually, and when none, including the one that had questioned the self-proclaimed promotion, spoke up, he smiled proudly and turned back to Legolas. “Tonight, and every night for as long as it takes, we shall ravish, maim and dirty you beyond recognition. Beyond recognition of an elf, that is.” The Orc paused, allowing Legolas to fully take in what he was suggesting. “Let us start with some punishment. Bring me a whip!”

All the Orcs roared, eager to begin the night’s festivities. Legolas suddenly felt the rest of his clothes being ripped from his body, until he stood as naked as the day he was born. The prince shivered, though not from the cold. The Orc in front of him took an item, presumably the whip, and moved around the naked figure. Looking ahead, Legolas saw eight Orcs watching him closely. How many stood behind he was not certain. Still, he had taken down at least 15 creatures before being caught. Had his arrows not run out, he may have killed them all. But there was no point to think of what may have been. Not now.

The only sign the prince had of the impending pain was the look of expectancy in the Orcs’ faces he could see, and the whistling sound the whip made as it sliced the air. The moment the whip slapped against his skin, Legolas knew something was wrong. He had been trained to endure most physical forms of torture, but this instrument cut much deeper than any that had been used upon him thus far. It dug into his skin and ripped flesh straight from his body. From the unexpected bite of the blow, Legolas hissed and arched away from the lashing tail.

“Hehe, you felt that one, didn’t you, pretty little Elf? You will be feeling that and more soon enough,” the leader teased, before striking again. The whip flew through the air and connected with Legolas’ back once more, sharp pinpricks could be felt mostly at the end of the whip where it dug further into soft tissue than anywhere else. Legolas grit his teeth as new wounds opened up when the whip rebounded from his skin.

“This is no ordinary whip,” Legolas spoke, contempt dripping from every word.

“You have discovered this far quicker than most. There are small barbs in the end that carves into the meat. The blood runs faster, wounds are deeper, pain is felt more and the poison travels through the body rapidly.”

“Poison?” Legolas asked, unable to keep the fear from his voice.

“Poiyyyssson,” the Orc emphasised. “Good poisons and bad ones, we have many. But do not fret, pretty elf, we have saved the very best for you!” The Orc let the whip fly once more. The sound reverberated throughout the area, and echoed with many voices howling with laughter.

*~*~*~*

Legolas’s legs were covered in thick blood, gushing from the gaping wounds adorning his back. He was once again slumped, hanging from the ropes keeping him upright. He had passed out once, but the Orcs woke him up right away with a foul tasting energy drink. Barely a moment later, a new Orc had taken the whip in hand started lashing out again with far more vigour and power than the leader had used.

Legolas had lost count as to how many strikes had been dealt. The pain was so unbearable he could no longer feel it. But on the very edges of his senses a new sensation was growing. One that, if unattended, could leave him in as much anguish as his back.

“Halt!” the leader called, “the poison is working.” Stepping up to Legolas, the Orc, wary of his claws, gently grasped Legolas’ sensitive organ. “You feel it, do you not? Coursing through your veins and pooling here?” A wicked grin spread across the creature’s face. “You’re pulsing, here, in my hand. Tell me what you want.”

Legolas looked up from the disgusting sight of the gnarled hand upon himself and stared hard into the yellow eyes, his lips sneering in the corners.

“I want you to take your filthy hand off me. Then you are to give me my weapons so I may cut you all down where you stand.”

“Are you sure?” The Orc slowly began moving his hand up and down the erection, the fully now erect penis hardening even more. “That is not what your body wants.”

Before Legolas could utter a scathing reply, his hips pushed forwards of their own volition, pressing himself further into the Orc’s hand.

All around him laughter broke out and in his mind’s eye, Legolas pictured his father’s withering stare upon learning of his son’s lack of control within the enemies’ hands.

Legolas’ skin was singing with sensation. The smallest touch, even the ropes digging into his wrists felt like orgasmic pleasure. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Legolas gathered all his strength and pulled himself out of the Orc’s hand. The beast did nothing to stop this action, but smirked at the Prince upon seeing the obvious effort it took the elf to complete the motion, if the perspiration on Legolas’ forehead was anything to go by.

“Pity. We shall just have to keep pushing until you can no longer resist us, or ignore your body’s needs.” Turning his back on Legolas, he called out to his group, “We have a prisoner who is very strong willed and will not break easily. What shall we do now comrades?”

Several scratchy voices rang out at once with various suggestions. The leader listened closely, and nodded his head as though considering all of them.

“Very well, bring the necessary items for Kartz’s idea. I shall start with the more fun part.” Walking behind Legolas again, the leader stepped up close and lowered his head to Legolas’ back. Sniffing the intoxicating fumes of the elf’s blood, the Orc slid his tongue between his cracked and peeling lips to lick the thick, red liquid seeping from the open wounds. Legolas clenched his teeth and tried to arch away from the sensation, but the Orc followed. The pain that had been dulled came back full force, and then some due to the drug coursing through his veins. Still, Legolas refused to cry out, but a few whimpers were uttered.

So preoccupied by the sensation on his back, Legolas failed to notice other Orcs surrounding him. Suddenly, Legolas felt his nipples being pinched and toyed with. Five Orcs now encircled him. Another tongue joined the one from behind, while two played with his sensitive buds. The fifth stood to the side, holding various items in his hands. Too engrossed in his current condition, Legolas took no notice of what those items were. Feeling hot breath upon his chest, Legolas looked down to see the Orcs each take a nipple into their mouth. Together, almost in unison, they began sucking, biting and teasing the nipples into full rigidity. And even when they pulled away, some minutes later, they toyed with the swollen nipples further, leaving Legolas constantly twisting between the pain felt from behind and in front.

However, as the treatment continued, Legolas noticed the throbbing to edge away ever so slightly, and the pain begin to turn into pleasure. His nipples, though abused like never before, began to become accustomed to being manhandled and soon he craved it all the more. His back, still bleeding profusely, and no doubt now infected from the impurities of the Orcs’ mouths, started to become addicted to the hot moist sensation running over it, digging painfully deep into the wounds before pulling away, leaving Legolas with a momentary feeling of relief. Before he realised it, the Prince of Mirkwood released a lusty moan, his erection now as swollen as his nipples.

The new leader behind him chortled. “What was that, pretty little elf? Enjoying our attentions?” he asked, pushing the others aside as he rounded Legolas’ body. Legolas mentally kicked himself and looked at the Orc in defiance. His captor’s face was red with blood, but he made no effort to remove it. “And now? Are you willing to give in? Willing to accept what we can offer?”

“Never!”

“Not even when we can grant you release?” the Orc asked, once again grasping Legolas between the legs. Legolas instantly bucked into the hand grasping him, but managed to stop himself from further embarrassment.

“Kill me now- you are wasting your time.”

“No. You are too much fun to stop playing with now,” the Orc smiled. Without warning, he then lunged into Legolas and kissed the prince deeply. The black fork-tongue rammed itself into Legolas’ mouth and sensually slid against the elf’s own pink muscle. Legolas tried to pull away, but the Orc held the blonde head in place. Again, the archer felt like vomiting- the taste of the foul beast’s mouth being far worse than the smell, but his gag reflex was in too much shock to work. Not knowing what else to do, Legolas bit down hard, injuring the invading tongue, his own mouth filling with black blood. But this did not deter the questing intruder. Instead, the Orc continued kissing Legolas, allowing for no escape or air. As the need for oxygen became desperate, Legolas tried to pull away again, but to no avail. The black tongue kept swiping over his own, licking his mouth from the inside and seemingly pushed all the liquid to the back of the prince’s throat. Before Legolas could react to this plan, his throat began working again and he involuntarily swallowed most of the blood.

The Orc then immediately pulled away and smirked. “Did you like that, pretty little elf? Soon your blood shall taste the same. Soon, we shall be the same.”

Legolas refused to answer the taunt, and instead opted to spit out the remaining remnants of the Orc.

Moving around him again, the two Orcs returned to licking his back, while the others started massaging his nipples once more. Within moments they were just as sensitive and swollen as before, if not more so now. Together, they gave his nipples a final, painful pinch, using just their claws, and then moved aside for the other Orc to take their position. Wasting no time, this Orc too took hold of one nipple. He squeezed it painfully tight in his claws until it bulged sideways. Holding one of his items carefully in place, the other then proceeded to push a tiny metal needle through the prince’s nipple. Legolas cried out, unprepared for the pain the act would bring. The needle was then pushed all the way through and removed. Knowing what was to come next as the Orc took hold of his other nipple, Legolas braced himself and clenched his fists in anguish as the needle was pushed through on the other side of his chest. At least this time he did not scream.

Legolas hung his head low, staring at his chest as his reddened nipples bled from either side of the holes made in them. Sadistically, the Orc that had pierced him bent low and slowly flicked his tongue out, gathering one nipple into its mouth, then sucked hard to remove as much blood as the wound would allow. He then leant back and brought his fingers back to the nipple. Before Legolas could figure out what would happen next, he felt an item, much larger than the needle being pushed through the small hole, opening it up as the piece of metal was pushed through. Legolas gritted his teeth against the pain- his twisting not helping the situation at all, but it was all Legolas could do in the circumstance.

When the movement around his nipple stopped, Legolas again hung his head low, his chest rising and falling swiftly, and a faint sheen of sweat covered it. Before he could rein in his breathing, the same process was carried out on the other nipple. But this time, an Orc from behind, presumably the leader, suddenly thrust a finger inside the prince, the sharpened fingernail easily tearing the soft flesh of Legolas’ entrance. Legolas bucked and tried to dislodge the captain’s intimate touch, but the Orc would not allow it. As Legolas continued to squirm, the Orc added a second finger and gripped one of Legolas’ hips tightly, holding the elf in place as he moved his fingers around inside his captive.

Legolas felt the fingers stretch inside him, pushing in, pulling out, tearing him. Soon the passageway was just as bloody as the rest of his back and Legolas, overcome by pain, began to weep openly.

“Sanitise him,” the Orc barked out, watching closely as tears ran down the elf’s face.

An Orc walked over to them with a water skin, and tipped out a green-tinged liquid, allowing it to run down Legolas’ chest, over his nipples and down to his now semi flaccid cock. Expecting a burning sensation on the sensitive open wounds, Legolas was surprised when no such feeling came. Instead, his swollen and abused buds instantly relaxed, a soothe numb feeling overcame them. Legolas could feel the rings inserted through his nipples, but no longer was the piercing fresh. Instead, it felt as though he had had the rings for some years already, and his body was used to their feeling and weight.

The leader leant back slightly as the other Orc poured the concoction down Legolas’ back. Again, the liquid soothed his hurts. It did not feel as though they were healed, rather that it had been several years since his body experienced the trauma and had adapted and accepted the scars now laced upon his back. The leader unceremoniously pulled his fingers free long enough to have them drenched in the healing potion, before forcing them back into the prince.

Legolas sighed as relief filled him from the outside in and the clawing within his person was not felt as strongly. In fact, now that his wounds had been seen to, his skin was buzzing once more, alive and ready to accept all attention given to it. The Orc tending to him roughly ploughed him from behind, the fingers entering deeper than before. Deep enough to lightly graze the prince’s pleasure zone. The first touch had Legolas gasping. The second moaning. And by the third Legolas was rocking back on the fingers, desperate for more.

Two mouths closed around his nipples, sucking gently and pulling on the rings. Legolas arched into the mouths, seeking greater contact. His moaning continued, and soon turned to quiet pleas for more. Eager to oblige, several hands started touching him all over. Running through his hair, up his legs, lightly pulling at his ears, and more importantly, teasing his cock. Legolas’ skin sung with pleasure as he was tended to. His erection grew hotter and harder than ever before. The hand within him was now pounding his prostate with every thrust and the hand upon him squeezed in conjunction with the tiny bolts of lightning coursing throughout his lower body.

The Orcs worked Legolas into a frenzy. Groping, touching, teasing, feeling, licking, biting, squeezing, petting, pulling, thrusting, nipping, tasting. Legolas was rock hard and leaking copious amounts. He rocked back and forth between the three main touches, but could not ignore the other attentions upon his body either. His body was now as tight as a bow and ready to snap. Concentrating on the three fingers now within him, the hand upon his penis and the occasional licks to his heavy sacs, Legolas spurned on his own body, forcing it let go and enjoy the sensations. Rocking back harder than before, the leader’s fingers edged inside Legolas’ body a tiny bit further than before. Legolas instantly felt his impending orgasm building up. His body was a volcano ready to explode. Once, twice, thrice he slid back along the fingers again, his lower body clenched, ready to spill its seed.

And then.

And then,

Nothing.

All hands and mouths instantly left the prince.

He hung there, past the brink of his orgasm, ready to blow, but a tight coil of rope now tied around his cock and balls kept the eruption from exploding.

“NO!” Legolas called, half weeping, half begging.

“No?” the leader teased.

“No. Please, please let me. Release me,” Legolas said, his hands itching, pulling at his bindings, desperately trying to free himself.

“You seek relief, pretty little elf?”

“Yes, Valar yes!”

“We can give you release, if you permit us the same,” the leader smiled, and pulled his loin cloth aside to expose his own erection. The blackened appendage was similar to his own, except in girth and width. Small pink tinges blotted the cock, Legolas presumed from where the length had stretched and grown beyond its usual size. The skin around the Orc’s cock was thick and almost scaly. Legolas shuddered in revulsion.

“No.”

“If you don’t, then we won’t,” the leader said, briefly touching the back of his fingers to Legolas’ penis, lighting his needy skin on fire. Legolas whimpered at the touch and tried not to look desperate, but knew he failed miserably. “You would like that, wouldn’t you? To find your relief? And we can make it happen. We have done everything for you so far- it is time you paid us back for our generosity. And then,” the Orc said, his hand sliding around Legolas’ hip to grasp the prince’s firm buttock, “and then we shall complete what we started and allow you the greatest pleasure you have ever had. Would you like that?” the Orc dipped its fingers within Legolas briefly, but did not plunge deeply.

Legolas opened his mouth, but no words came out. Instead, he let his head fall, submitting to the Orc’s request.

“No, we will not allow you to accept so easily. I want to hear you say it. Tell us you want us. Tell us you wish to pleasure us. Tell us you want us to pleasure you.”

“Yes,” Legolas murmured, barely loud enough for the leader to hear him.

“Not good enough, pretty little elf. Ask us. Ask us if we will let you pleasure us.” The Orc again fondled Legolas, reminding the elf what he would get in return for his submission. Legolas’ body tensed in need and desire, but he overcame his yearning long enough to agree.

“Allow me to pleasure you?” he asked softly.

“Louder, and say please.”

“Please let me touch you,” Legolas asked, tears of shame in his eyes.

“Ask us to fuck you.”

“Please penetrate me.”

“Fuck.”

“Please fuck me,” Legolas’ head hung low, his shoulders shaking in submission and his cheeks aflame.

“Very good, pretty little elf. You shall remember this day, as the one where you stopped being an elf. Cut him down!”

Legolas landed heavily on the ground. His hands were instantly captured, to stop him from seeking self-pleasure. On his knees, an Orc stood in front of him while another, presumably the leader, knelt behind. Stepping up, the one in front pulled aside his clothing and brought his cock up to Legolas’ face. The prince gagged at the thought of what he was about to do and tried to turn his face away.

“Uh-uh, pretty little elf. You asked for this,” the Orc behind him said, and forced Legolas’ face forwards again. The hunger of his body was undeniable and overshadowed every thought he had. His own need driving him to complete this task so he may be free of his own desire. Whimpering and licking his lips Legolas could barely control himself. He reached out to it. The Orc was happy to comply. Slowly he opened his mouth as wide as he could. He didn’t think it was possible but he was able to engulf halfway down the Orc’s length in the first swallow.

There was no tenderness or finesse to the way the Orc used him. No gentle words or tender caresses. The Orc gripped the elf’s head, wrapping his filthy fingers through the silky hair to keep him from straying and he ploughed forward, over and over, raping his mouth. But Legolas let it happen. He stretched open his jaw as wide as he could and let the Orc do whatever he wanted. Again he was anxious to feel his own relief, so he used his lips and tongue to urge the Orc along. He twirled and licked as much as he could around the impossible thickness.

“You like this, I think, pretty little elf,” the leader said, petting Legolas’ head. “He will finish soon, and you will drink him down. And then, we shall return the favour.”

Legolas closed his eyes dreamily and imagined what it would be like in a few seconds, how he would gulp it down. He imagined the Orc would flood him with more seed than he could handle. He would have to work hard to swallow it all into his belly. The smell of the Orc, stale sweat and poor hygiene, was nothing compared to the rich meal of sperm he would receive. 

The Orc dug his claws into Legolas’ scalp and then pumped thick gushes of seed into his mouth. Legolas closed his eyes in hungry pleasure and guzzled it as quickly as he could. It was sharp and rancid tasting but it was alive and exactly what he needed. As it filled his belly he felt a momentary easing of the hunger he had felt, the fullness warming him, giving him a respite to the draining need of his own body.

Legolas held the softening Orc cock in his lips for several minutes, sucking the last of the Orc’s semen, savouring the last taste of it. Finally the Orc had had enough. By the hair he yanked Legolas to his feet. “There will be more later little elf, don’t be so greedy.” So focused had Legolas been on bringing the Orc to completion he hadn’t noticed other Orcs gathering closely. Some had Legolas’ captured hands now running up and down their own lengths, others shuffling, waiting for their turn.

“Again,” the leader whispered in Legolas’ ear. Turning to the side, Legolas leaned towards the Orc that held his right hand. Taking initiative, the Orc stepped up and presented himself to the elf. Legolas closed his eyes and let the thick Orc cock press to the back of his throat. The leaking pre-ejaculate was bitter, so bitter compared to the other Orc. Legolas felt ill from the taste and tried to pull away, but the Orc growled and gripped Legolas’ head, thrusting hard in and out. Urging the Orc along, he reached up between the powerful legs and found two testicles the size of oranges. He caressed them and squeezed them. He became even more and more aroused thinking of how it would feel to be bent over and split open by the Orc’s shaft and to have all that thick seed sprayed into his body. Hungrily Legolas moaned and stretched his lips around the flesh before a telltale grunt from the beast signalled his completion. The thick sour meal gushed into his mouth and he swallowed and swallowed. 

 

Another Orc soon replaced this one, and Legolas was left once again to tend to him.

“You are doing well, pretty little elf. Time for some payment.” The Orc placed his large cock between Legolas’ buttocks and pushed inside the elf. Legolas panted in fear when he felt the first prod against his hole. The Orc was much larger than any sexual partner he had had so far, and far larger than the three fingers that had been inside him before, and the beast could easily rip him and bruise him. But he wanted this. Legolas wantonly pushed back, urging his captor in further.

The Orc pressed again. Legolas cried out around the cock in his mouth in blissful agony when the long slow slide of the thickness entered him further. But it was so slow, so gradual and so slick he was able to manage as it stretched him, as it pushed possessively into his slender body. He sensed the barely-restrained power of the beast’s lust and it terrified him.

The push continued. He could feel the pressure of the phallus throughout his entire body. It was painful, very painful, but at the same time exhilarating. 

The next push was almost a thrust. It was slow, but so powerful Legolas felt almost ready to come.  
The next thrust was harder and faster and the one after that even more so. It knocked the breath out of Legolas. Little by little the pace picked up and the penetration deepened. The restraint the Orc had managed during his initial penetration was abandoned and the beast’s lust took over as his release grew nearer. In his clawed hands he held Legolas by the hips and yanked him back. Legolas cried and limply surrendered himself to the beast. He felt his body being battered by the thick pole again and again. 

It was too much; he no longer had any control over himself. His body existed only to give the Orcs pleasure. While being thrust into over and over again from behind, Legolas had brought three more Orcs to completion with his mouth and hands. Others that could no longer hold back and wait their turn simply brought themselves to completion, spraying their seed all over Legolas’ head, face and chest.

“Come for me, pretty little elf,” the leader whispered, and tugged off the rope around Legolas’ genitals.

The headiness of the Orcs’ scent, the constant thrusting upon his erogenous zone and the pleasure of the situation was more than Legolas could bear. Without further stimulation, Legolas suddenly stiffened, his back bent like a bow. His eyes rolled back in his head, a scream tearing from his throat. The Orc crushed the elf against his chest. Legolas trembled against him, wracked with wave upon wave of his release, made all the more potent for having been denied to him for so long. Then, just as dramatically, the prince slumped in his arms like a dead man. The leader didn't need to look down to know that the elf had passed out. Finally, the quaking pulses of the Orc’s warm sperm erupting inside Legolas shook him and his anus was flooded with the Orc’s seed- not that he noticed in his now comatose state.

 

~*~*~*~*~

“Legolas- wake up,” a soothing voice called. “Please, we cannot go through this again- wake up!”

Legolas groaned as he drowsily returned from the darkness back to consciousness.

“Oh thank the Valar,” a voice breathed above him. Warily cracking open an eye, Legolas spied a dark haired elf hovering over him. “We thought we might have been too late,” the elf said brokenly, biting into his lower lip.

“We?” Legolas asked uncertainly.

“Aye, Elrohir and I. Father asked us to search for you when you failed to arrive on schedule. We saw,” Elladan looked away, tears in his eyes. “We saw signs of Orc activity and found you as soon as we could. We slaughtered those disgusting creatures and tended to your wounds and dirtied state. Elrohir has gone to find more herbs and should be back soon. Though truthfully I believe he did not wish to be here when you awoke.”

Legolas didn’t need to ask why his friend could not stand to be with him. Not five years ago had the twins lost their mother in a similar Orc attack. She hadn’t died physically, but her soul was sorely diminished and only in Valinor would she be spared losing to her grief and fading.

Legolas closed his eyes in understanding, and immediately he was overcome by the dark creatures, his memories assaulting him as he recalled everything they did, and everything he allowed them to do.

He jerked as his eyes opened again, his breathing now laboured and his forehead glistening.

“Legolas?” Elladan asked, concerned.

“They were trying to turn me, and I allowed it. What is going to happen to me?” Legolas asked, clutching Elladan’s tunic front.

“I am unsure Legolas. It did not seem like you had been in their clutches as long as our mother had been. We may have reached you in time.”

“But you may not have also. I feel it. There is something inside me now. They may not have succeeded, but just knowing what I agreed to, I can hardly call myself an elf now. Those foul creatures-”

“Tricked you. Used you. They are evil and undeserving of looking upon your countenance, let alone defiling you. They pushed you to your limits, Legolas, and were uncompromising in your treatment. What happened was not your fault. You cannot trust anything they said.”

“But I have been dirtied by them, physically, emotionally, spiritually, sexually-”

“Legolas,” Elladan sighed.

“You know it, do you not?” Legolas half sat up, shaking Elladan’s shoulders. “You found me. You must have seen what they did to me, how they corrupted me. But you don’t know why!”

“Legolas, you need sleep,” Elladan tried to pull Legolas’ hands from him.

“I ASKED THEM TO! ORCS! And I BEGGED them to give to me all they did and more! And I took it. A good little slave, willing to be turned, willing to take all they gave!”

 

“NO LEGOLAS! They are twisted, malicious creatures, and know how to twist others, BUT NOT TURN THEM! Only Melkor and Sauron have the knowledge and ability to create Orcs. Legolas, they used your body against you, but you are not to blame. They are evil beings, but do not fret, Elrohir and I saw to it that they will disturb us no further. We have cleansed your wounds and cleaned your body. There is no taint upon you anymore except for that which you perceive. Rest Legolas, you will need your strength for the ride to Rivendell.”

Legolas stared hard at Elladan for a moment, debating whether or not to believe the half-elf’s words. Slowly, he released the tunic and lay down again. Fearful to close his eyes, he kept watching Elladan, not wishing for the only other creature of light he had seen for months to leave his sight.

“Cleaned me how?” Legolas asked softly?

“Excuse me?” Elladan asked.

“You said you cleaned me. How so?”

“Elrohir and I melted some snow and wiped down your body with a wet cloth. We also rubbed scented oils into your skin. We also removed the piercings from your chest. I promise; we left none of their defilement upon you.”

“Upon?” Legolas asked, worried.

“And within,” Elladan whispered. “Elrohir forced your stomach to empty, and I released the rest.” Legolas whimpered, imagining in his mind the sight he must have made. His cheeks pinkened and tears formed in his eyes. “Legolas, I swear to you, other than our father, we shall not breathe word of this to another. You have no reason to be ashamed.”

“For as long as my memories remain, I will ALWAYS remember their touch and my part to play. I can hardly imagine another wanting me when they learn of this.”

“Legolas, Elrohir and I shall not speak of this- not even to father if you so wish it, but there is no greater healer than he. To keep this from him would be unwise.”

“No. Even if nothing is said, how am I to continue? How am I to give myself over to another so fully AND keep this from them? Someday, there will come a time when I feel ready to bond, and I will tell of this to my partner. How could anyone want me after this sullying? How could I wish to give myself to someone when I do not believe myself worthy?”

“Legolas, you are worthy. You are an elf, destined to find love and peace and happiness, and yes, even some sorrow, but that is not this day. You will go on, and you will find someone to love, whom will love you equally. Someone who will not banish you from their heart when they learn of what occurred today; instead, they will acknowledge your pain, and take it on themself and within their arms, you will heal fully. You deserve nothing less Legolas,” Elladan said now kneeling over the prince and cupping the fair head on either side.

“Show me,” Legolas whispered, his arm reaching up to Elladan’s face. Shocked, the Rivendell prince pulled away. “I knew it,” Legolas allowed his hand to drop, tears flowing freely.

“No, Legolas, shhh. I was merely taken aback.”

“Then you will? Prove to me your words are true,” Legolas all but begged.

“I would dear friend, but my heart belongs to Elrohir.”

“I know, I ask not for that, but I feel their hands upon me still. Please, show me I am still desirable. Elrohir will understand,” Legolas encouraged, desperate for some contact. Elladan looked deep into Legolas’ eyes and saw the need the prince had for physical reassurance. Nodding his head in acquiescence, Elladan swiftly removed his garb and lay down next to Legolas, propping himself up on one arm.

“He will understand,” Elladan muttered, more to himself than Legolas.

Elladan leaned in to place a gentle kiss on the Sindar’s soft lips and the Prince responded immediately. Gently, the twin removed the light blanket that had been resting over Legolas’ naked form and rolled atop the blonde’s body. He then slid his hands down the Archer’s slim body and with some fidgeting, firmly cupped his buttocks. Legolas moaned into the kiss as it grew deeper with desire. Elladan licked the younger Elf’s lips, asking for entrance into the wet heat beyond, which the Mirkwood Elf granted. Tongues met and danced, chasing the other from one cavern to the next.

Both Elves groaned when their rising arousals rubbed together. Elladan guided Legolas’ slim legs up from the ground to wind themselves around the twin’s hips.

Elladan rolled his hips, causing contact between the Elves’ erections and moans were emitted. Legolas pulled on the dark head, deepening their lip-lock into a passionate and fiery kiss, their hips still grinding their arousals.

When air became a necessity, the kiss was broken and the Elder Elf trailed kisses down the pale column of neck before him, sucking at the join of neck and collarbone. Legolas dug his fingers into the ground as the pleasure was becoming too much to bear. Elladan ran his hands up the Prince’s torso, stopping to play with the pink nipples before continuing up to the slight shoulders and running down the ivory arms to eventually intertwine his fingers with Legolas’.

The healer moved his head to a hardened nub, licking and kissing it before drawing it into his mouth. Legolas arched his back into the contact, begging for more and moaning with pleasure. The twin soon grew bored with Legolas’ left nipple and transferred to the right. The Prince squeezed his eyes shut as a thin layer of sweat formed on his brow. Waves of pleasure racked his body and all the Archer could do was clench Elladan’s hands even harder.

His own hardened member becoming painful now, the dark haired Elf journeyed lower on Legolas’ body, placing butterfly kisses down to his navel, dipping his tongue into the small inlet and sucking gently.

“Saes… please, Elladan, you torture me,” Legolas breathed, barely a whisper, his body squirming beneath the teasing mouth.

Elladan needed no more persuading. Unlinking their hands, he brought them to the Prince’s bony hips. Without warning, he took the Prince’s Elfhood into his mouth, twirling his tongue around the head of the taut head. Elladan deep-throated the Mirkwood Elf’s length and hummed, sending spine-tingling shivers through the younger Elf’s form. The Archer practically howled his pleasure and frustration. His hands wound into the brown mane, almost ripping the strands out from the roots while the half elf continued his sweet torment.

Elladan ran his mouth along the Elfhood, gently scraping his teeth on the sides of the sensitive skin. He then released the flesh from his mouth and ran his tongue along the slit at the head.

Feeling his own member leaking profusely against his stomach, Elladan repositioned himself and placed his hot shaft at the Prince’s opening. Legolas’ hands now firmly grasped around Elladan’s forearms, bracing himself for the intrusion.

Taking a moment, Elladan looked deep into Legolas’ eyes, and cupped a cheek.

“You are so beautiful, my friend. None will ever suspect you are anything but an elf, in spirit, mind, body and soul.” Legolas desperately sought this confirmation and looked for any hint of a lie within the twin’s eyes. Seeing none, the prince smiled gratefully, tears leaking from his eyes again. “May I continue?” Elladan asked, seeking permission.

A small nod from Legolas signalled his compliance. Elladan then entered the Mirkwood Elf without hesitation, sheathing himself to the hilt. Both Elves groaned in appreciation of the bonding.

Their rhythm was fast and only grew more furious as their bodies controlled their actions more than their minds. The Sindar Elf crossed his legs around Elladan’s waist, drawing him closer for greater contact.

Elladan rammed into Legolas again and again, the need for release taking over all conscious thought. His fingers dug into the Archer’s hips hard enough to bruise, as were the hands on Elladan’s arms. The twin bent down to place another passionate kiss upon the bruised lips of the Prince. Legolas moved a hand down to his neglected shaft and pumped himself in time to their thrusts.

The telltale signs of release came in a rush. The blood thrummed in the Elves’ ears, their thrusts were more erratic and their bodies now glistened with sweat. Legolas came first, his orgasm exploding over their stomachs.

A few more thrusts and Elladan followed, the silver liquid squirting into the Prince. The Rivendell Elf collapsed on top of the Archer, both breathing heavily from their powerful discharge.

Legolas recovered first. Shaking Elladan’s shoulder gently, the Prince brought the twin back to the present.

“Thankyou. Although bad blood has existed between our realms for some time, I have always known you and your brother to be true friends. Thankyou, I truly needed that just now.”

“You are welcome. I am glad to be of assistance in your time of need, my dearest friend.” Elladan leant down for a gentle kiss, slowly pulling out of the prince at the same time. “And now, it is time for you to rest.”

Legolas nodded sleepily and waited until Elladan had moved off him and placed the blanket over him again before he closed his eyes. This time, no dark creatures sought him in the darkness of his mind. Smiling softly, Legolas tried to shut out the world around him and let his mind go blank, but just then, Elrohir returned. Feigning a healing sleep, Legolas listened closely to his friends’ conversation, praying Elrohir did indeed understand his need, and would forgive his brother and lover.

“Is it over?” Elrohir asked softly.

“Aye, he is sleeping peacefully.”

“Will he survive and continue on as he is now, or did we arrive too late?” Elrohir queried, his bottom lip quivering.

“He will live,” Elladan answered simply.

“But as what?” Elrohir asked again.

“I am unsure.”

“I hope he remains as he is,” Elrohir said softly, kneeling beside his sleeping friend, a gentle hand running through the blonde locks. “He is such a pretty little elf.”

 

  
End.


End file.
